


Ain't No Sunshine

by theviolonist



Category: Greek
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theviolonist/pseuds/theviolonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So why exactly did you decide to climb the ivy and crash my wedding preparations, groom-to-be?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't No Sunshine

"Something's going on with the windows."

"Nothing is going on with the windows, Casey. It's only the drugs I put in your coffee to tame down your eventual urge to escape, nothing to worry about."

"Ha ha. Seriously, Ash. There is _something_. Look at those curtains! I'm pretty sure curtains aren't supposed to have that shape."

"I... think I recognize that bulk, actually. Wait." Ashleigh tears the curtains open. "Cappie?"

Several high-pitched screams go up from every corner of the room; all the women rush towards the center of the room and try to cover Casey with their arms, legs and... various other appendages.

"I may not have entirely thought this through," Cappie says.

"You think?" Casey's voice, slightly shrill, flutes through her armor of bridesmaids. "What are you doing here, Cap? I know you're all about breaking the rules, but I thought we'd agreed we'd actually respect this one."

Cappie puts his hands up, further abashed by Ashleigh's patented glare of death, which she's perfected over the years. "I know, I know. I just wanted to... you know, to tell you..." His sentence trails into nothing. 

"Yes?"

"I didn't expect to have an audience. It's kind of a private thing to say. I'd hate to lose my reputation as Washington's favorite Lothario."

Ashleigh doesn't seem to find the joke funny. "Nuh-uh. This isn't gonna work on me, Cap, sorry. You can't see her."

"Come on! I'll -" He grabs a scarf lying around on one of the nearby chairs and ties it hastily around his eyes. "I promise I won't look."

"How do I know Casey can trust you?"

"You are aware she's marrying me, right?"

Ashleigh tilts her head. "Touché. But nothing below the belt, blindfold or no blindfold, or I will cut you."

Cappie swallows and salutes. "Yes ma'am, understood ma'am. Now can we dispose with the wedding party?"

Even though he can't see her, Ashleigh throws him another fierce glare, for good measure. "Fine. Let's go, girls." The women, all wearing traditional ZBZ pink, trail out of the room, whispering between themselves. Ashleigh lingers behind, points her finger at Casey. "You better not elope without me. I'm warning you."

Casey smiles. "We'll be fine. Thanks, Ash."

"Thanks, Ash!" echoes Cappie, flailing around as though he were trying to climb at the curtains. Some things never change.

The door closes and they're - well, face to face. More or less.

"You're sure you haven't seen anything?" Casey asks nervously.

Cappie smiles, grabbing blindly for where she very much isn't. "Nothing but a blur of white and the smile of the most beautiful woman in the world."

She title her head, still charmed, despite herself. "Careful Cap, or your old brothers will think you're whipped."

"I'm sure the gift baskets and the, you know, wedding will take care of that. But thanks for the thought, Case."

She giggles softly and finally takes a purposeful step forward. His hands slot on her hips; he tips towards her the way he always has, like something magnetically draws them together. It's been ten years now, but her skin still feels like it's burning when he touches her.

"We're getting married," she says. 

"We are." Even with the blindfold, she can feel his eyebrows furrowing. "There's still time to back out, you know."

She tips forward on his chest. "I can't believe you're the one saying that."

Cappie sighs dramatically. "I know, I feel unloved too. You know I have to do everything in this relationship: proposing, climbing out windows to see my bride..."

"Bride-to-be."

This time his smile is wider, without any trace of sarcasm. "Bride-to-be."

"So why exactly did you decide to climb the ivy and crash my wedding preparations, groom-to-be?"

His hold on her waist tightens. "Just wanted to tell you I love you one last time before hour H." He leans forward to kiss her, misses, hits the side of her nose instead. "Crap. Oh," he slides a hand into his jacket and pulls out a gleaming flask. "And I thought I'd bring you a little pick-me-up. I know how nervous you get in stressful situations."

"I don't get nervous!"

"Okay, maybe that was me. I just didn't want to drink alone before my wedding, and who better to share the booze than my lovely fiancée?"

"I still prefer bride-to-be."

"As you wish, milady. Shall we?"

She takes her sip first. He was right, of course: the warm alcohol only makes her realize how nervous she is, and soothes her a little. He drinks too, and as he twists the cap back on the flask she pushes herself up on her toes to kiss him. It takes a second to get it right, but when they do it's worth it: the last kiss before becoming Mister and Misses whatever-their-name-will-be, probably hers, jittery and vodka-flavored and perfect.

"Okay," she breathes out. "You should go now."

"What, you're worried they'll start without us? Sorry to break to you, Case, but -"

"I'm more worried that we'll start the wedding night without them."

Cappie laughs, startled - of course she still surprises him. She plants a last kiss on his lips and pushes him backwards. "Go."

He starts undoing the blindfold.

"Turn around!"

"It was worth a shot," Cappie smiles. 

"You're the worst."

"But you're marrying me anyway."

"Guess I am," she says, instead of the witty retort she could've flung back at him. 

He smiles at her, blind and brilliant, and turns around. The blindfold off, he starts climbing over the window frame, swinging his long legs with worrying agility. 

"Don't kill yourself, okay?" she asks anyway, worried despite herself. 

"Don't worry about me, Case." He blows her a kiss over his shoulder. "See you at the altar!"

She listens to his progression down the wall. As she hears the thump that means he must have made it back safe, he yells, "Call me if the jerk stands you up, Case, I'll kick his ass for you!"

She smothers her laughter in her hands; one beat, during which she allows herself to smile in her hands, impossibly wide, before she rushes to the door and lets her bridesmaids back in. It only takes one second for Ashleigh to smell the alcohol on her breath. She rolls her eyes. 

"I guess there are some things you can't change, right?" 

"But Cappie isn't one of them."

"Please stop or I'll gag," Rebecca snarks from behind her, snug in a truly obscene dress.

"Maybe you're right," Casey says to Ashleigh.

They work out the final kinks in Casey's look silently over the next few minutes. The room is a buzzing nest of activity, taffetas, wedding cheer and ZBZ quibs. Cats feature prominently, but Casey can't stop smiling.

"Can't believe I'm having a ZBZ wedding," she says finally.

"I'll drink to that," Rebecca counters - of course she already has a glass of champagne. Of course. 

"I don't know," Ashleigh says. "Sounds fitting."

"Really?"

"Well, you and Cappie met on campus. You were in the ZBZ house the first time you broke up, when you got back together, when you broke up _again_ -"

"I get it, thanks."

Ashleigh laughs. She plants her hands on her hips, regards her oeuvre. "Well. I think we're ready."

"We're ready," Rebecca agrees impatiently.

But despite what he said, Cappie doesn't stand her up. He's there at the altar, watching her as she goes out in the ZBZ garden, decked in white, radiant; he holds out a hand for her to take and climb the few steps that lead up to the makeshift altar. For a few moments he looks like he can't breathe, like the vision of her humbles and awes him all at the same time. Casey ducks her head, giddy inside.

When he recovers he smiles at her, whispers, "Fancy meeting you here."

She lets out a giggle. 

"So," he leans a little more against her, "what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Cap, stop," she whisper-laughs.

The priest regards them impatiently. "Can we go on with it?"

Casey thinks about Katherine, somewhere in the audience behind them, and the urge to make a snappy hand gesture and snap 'Moving on' takes her. She shoves it back into her brain, holds tight onto Cappie's hand. 

The rest of it is like a blur. There's the ceremony proper, then the vows - later Cappie will swear he didn't tear up, but he totally did, Casey was there, she saw -, then the first dance, being congratulated by eyerone, Grant and Heath, Rusty and his new girlfriend Juliette, Ashleigh and her husband, Evan. All the sisters from Casey's year are here, some looking happier than others about it, but Casey doesn't care - she feels lightheaded, dazed with joy. Cappie is like her, accepting handshakes without his customary tailor-made jokes, his gaze fixed on her throughout the whole evening. 

They waited a while to do this - after the Max fiasco, Casey was worried about going too fast, and Cappie is probably the biggest commitment-phobe the earth has ever borne (except when it comes to her, apparently; Casey tries not to be smug about that). They moved to Washington together, he got a job as a philosophy teacher in one of the universities ("I'm the cool teacher, Case. They love me even more than they love Nietzsche."), she got a position in a law firm that specializes in humanitarian work, and after nine years together it felt natural, almost fated, that he would propose to her in an elevator while lamp-shopping (they're good at breaking furniture. Don't ask). Still, it was a surprise: Casey remember her heart jumping in her chest and his face, as though he thought she might say no, even after all they've been through together. 

But, well... she didn't say no, though she did break the lamp - again - when she jumped him right afterwards, and now here they are, and Casey wouldn't change a minute of it. 

"Do you have any regrets?" she asks at the end of the night, her head pillowed on Cappie's chest as the band plays Flo Rida's 'Get Low'.

"Not sure that lemon-banana cake was such a good idea, now that you mention it," he says softly, nodding pointedly towards the refreshments table. "Though Daley does seem to love it." He sobers up immediately when he catches her eye, shakes his head. "Nope. No regrets. Not one."

And he leans down to kiss her, and everything in the world is perfect, even as he steps on her toes and she yelps, disrupting their waltz. For once, everyone gets their happy ending.


End file.
